The Letters of Franklin K. Lane, Personal and Political
touch pretty well through George and Anne. ... So you have now a
philosophy--something to hang to! I am glad of it. The standpoint
is the valuable thing. There are profound depths in the idea that
lies under Christian Science, but like all other new things it
goes to unreasonable lengths. "Be Moderate," were the words
written over the Temple on the Acropolis, and this applies to all
things. This world is curiously complex, and no one knows how to
answer all our puzzles. Sometimes I think that God himself does
not. There is a fine poem by Emerson called, THE SPHINX, which is
the most hopeful thing that I have found, because it recognizes
the dual world in which we live, for everything goes not singly
but in pairs--good and evil, matter and mind. Then, too, you may
be interested in his essay on FATE.
Dear Fritz--dear, dear boy, how I wish I could be there with him,
though I could do no good. ... Each night I pray for him, and I am
so much of a Catholic that I pray to the only Saint I know or ever
knew and ask her to help. If she lives her mind can reach the
minds of the doctors just as surely as there is such a thing as
transmission of thought between us, or hypnotism. I don't need her
to intercede with God, but I would like her to intercede with man.
Why, oh why, do we not know whether she is or not! Then all the
universe would be explained to me. The only miracle that I care
about is the resurrection. If we live again we certainly have
reason for living now. I think that belief is the foundation hope
of religion. Anne has it with a certainty that is to me nothing
less than amazing. And people of noble minds, of exalted spirits,
not necessarily of greatest intellects have it. George has it in
his own way, and he is certainly one of the real men of the earth.
The President has it strongly. He is, in fact, deeply, truly
religious. The slanders on him are infamous.
... We are to have the quietest possible Christmas. No one but
ourselves at dinner--I give no presents at all--for financially
we are up to our eyebrows. I probably will work all day except for
an hour or two which I shall use in playing with Nancy, for her
gay spirit will not allow anything but the Christmas spirit to
prevail. She is so like our Dear One, so determined, cheerful,
hopeful, courageous, yet very shy. Ned will be out all night at
dances and tomorrow too, for he is a most popular chap and very
well-behaved indeed. His manners are excellent and he has plenty
of dash. He is learning these things now which I learned only
after many years, the little things which make the conventional
man of the world.
I hope that you will find the New Year one of great peace of mind
and real serenity of soul. May you commune with the Spirit of the
Infinite and find yourself growing more and more in the spiritual
image of the Dear One.
My tenderest love to you and to your good high-hearted man, and to
the Boy.
FRANK
TO MRS. ADOLPH C. MILLER
Washington [1915]
This is a Christmas letter and is addressed:--"To a Brave Young
Woman." I am afraid it is not just as cheery and merry as it
should be because, you see, it's like this, I am poor--very, very
poor, and I have very good taste--very, very good taste. Now
those two things can't get on together at Christmas. Then, too, I
am busy--very, very busy, so I don't have time to shop. Now if you
were very, very poor and had very, very good taste and were very,
very busy and couldn't shop--how in heaven could you buy anything
for anyone?
I did take half an hour or so to look at things, and things were
so ugly that were cheap that of course I couldn't buy them without
confessing poor taste, or they were so very expensive that I
couldn't buy them without confessing bankruptcy. Now there you
are! So what could a poor boy do but come home empty-handed,
nothing for Anne or Nancy or Ned or you--not even something for
myself! And I need things, socks and pipe, and better writing
paper than this, and music and toothpaste and some new clothes,
and a house near your palace, and a more contented spirit and
another job and Ahellofalotof things. Don't get nervous about me,
because I'm not going to kill myself for lack of all these things,
although a true-born Samurai, loyal to Bushido might do so. For it
is dishonor not to be rich at Christmas time; not to feel rich,
anyway. But then let me see what I've got! There's Anne! I expect
if sold on the block, at public auction, say in Alaska, where
women are scarce, she would bring some price; but her digestion
isn't very good and her heart is quite weak and her hair is
falling out. But these things, of course, the auctioneer wouldn't
reveal. She would make a fine Duchess, but the market just now is
overstocked with Duchesses. And she is a good provider when
furnished with the provisions.
Now there is Ned--he could hire out as a male assistant to a
female dancer and get fifty a week, perhaps. Nancy couldn't even
do that. They are both liabilities. So there you are, with
Duchesses on the contraband list, and Nancy not old enough to
marry a decayed old Pittsburg millionaire, I will be compelled to
keep on working. For my assets aren't what your noble husband
would call quick, though they are live. I really don't know what
to do. I shall wait till Anne comes home and then, as usual, do
what she says.
I really did look for something for you. But the only thing I saw
that I thought you would care for was a brooch, opal and diamonds
for seven hundred and seventy-five dollars, so I said you wouldn't
care for it. But I bought it for you A LA Christian Science. You
have it, see? I think you have it, that I gave it to you. And that
Adolph doesn't know it, see?
Well you have the opal and I am happy because you are enjoying it.
Such fire! What a superb setting! And such refined taste,
platinum, do you notice! oh, so modest! No one else has any such
jewel. How Henry will admire it--and how mystified Adolph is!
Tell him you bought it out of the money you saved on corned beef.
How I shall enjoy seeing you wear it, and knowing that it bears in
its fiery heart all the ardent poetry that I would fain pour out,
but am deterred by my shyness. But you will understand! Each night
you must take it out just for a glimpse before saying your
prayers. The opal is from Australia, the platinum from Siberia,
the diamonds from Africa, the setting was designed in Paris. And
here it is, the circle of the world has been made to secure this
little thing of beauty for you. What symbolism!
I hope it will make you happy, and cause you to forget all your
pain and weakness. It has given me great happiness to give you
this little gift. And so we will both have a merry Christmas.
FRANK
VIII
AMERICAN AND MEXICAN AFFAIRS
1916
On Writing English--Visit to Monticello--Citizenship for Indians--On
Religion--American-Mexican Joint Commission
TO WILLIAM M. BOLE
GREAT FALLS TRIBUNE
Washington, December 29, 1915
DEAR BOLE,--I am very much gratified by the manner in which you
treated my annual report. Certainly my old newspaper training has
stood me in good stead in writing my reports. In fact it always
has, for while I was Corporation Counsel in San Francisco, and a
member of the Interstate Commerce Commission, I wrote legal
opinions that were intelligible to the layman, and I tried to
present my facts in such manner as to make their presentation
interesting. The result was that the courts read my opinions and
sustained them, but whether they were equally impressive upon the
strictly legal mind, I have my doubts, because you know inside the
"union" there is a strong feeling that the argot of the bar must
be spoken and the simplest legal questions dealt with in profound,
philosophic, latinized vocabulary.
I remember that after I was elected Corporation Counsel, when I
was almost unknown to the bar of San Francisco, I began to hear
criticism from my legal friends that my opinions were written in
English that was too simple, so I indulged myself by writing a
dozen or so in all the heavy style that I could put on, writing in
as many Latin phrases and as much old Norman French as was
possible. This was by way of showing the crowd that I was still a
member of the union.
I find that all our scientific bureaus suffer from the same
malady. These scientists write for each other, as the women say
they dress for each other. One of the first orders that I issued
was that our letters should be written in simple English, in words
of one syllable if possible, and on one page if possible.
Soon after I came here I found a letter from one of our lawyers to
an Indian, explaining the conditions of his title, that was so
involved and elaborately braided and beaded and fringed that I
could not understand it myself. I outraged the sensibilities of
every lawyer in the Department, and we have five hundred or more
of them, by sending this letter back and asking that it be put in
straightaway English. ... Cordially yours,
FRANKLIN K. LANE
TO MRS. ADOLPH C. MILLER
Washington, [January 1, 1916]
Having just sent a wire to you I shall now indulge myself in a few
minutes talk with that many-sided, multiple-natured, quite
obvious-and-yet-altogether-hidden person who is known to me as
Mary Miller.
The flash of brilliant crimson on the eastern side of the opal, do
you catch it? Now that is the flash of courage, the brilliant
flame that will lead you to hold your head high. ... I like very
much what you say as to wearing our jewel "discreetly but
constantly." No combination of words could more perfectly express
the relationship which this bit of sunrise has established between
us--devotion, loyalty, telepathic communication without publicity.
I am sure you are belittling yourself. ... you are a game bird,--
good, you understand, but with a tang, a something wild in flavor,
a touch of the woods and mountain flowers and hidden dells in
bosky places, and wanderings and sweet revolt against captivity.
...
This is my first line of the New Year. Anne is a true daughter of
Martha this morning--her heart is troubled with many things,
getting ready for the raid of the Huns this afternoon. She says
she will write when she repossesses herself of her right arm. Good
health!
Some days later
... I have been receiving your wireless messages all week, my dear
Mary, and not one was an S. O. S. Good! The fair ship MARY MILLER
is safe. Hurrah! She never has been staunch, but she was the
gayest thing on the sea, and when her sails were all set from jib
to spanker she made a gladsome sight, and some speed.
Of course, being so gay she was venturesome. That's where the
Devil comes in. He is always looking about for the gay things. He
hates anything that doesn't make medicine for him. If you are gay
you are likely to be venturesome, and if venturesome, you can be
led astray. So the good ship MARY MILLER instead of hugging the
shore took a try at the vasty deep and got all blown to pieces.
Then she sent out a cry for help. The wireless worked and now with
a little puttering along in the sunshine and a lazy sea, she will
be her gay self once more, and like Kipling's Three Decker will
"carry tired people to the Islands of the Blest."
That was a most charming letter you sent me, a real bit of
intimate talk. Anne read it first. She is very careful as to my
reading. And I was glad to know that she could discover nothing in
it which might injuriously affect my trustful young mind. Anne is
really a good woman. I don't believe in husband's abusing their
wives, publicly. Good manners are essential to happiness in
married life. We are short on manners in this country, and that
explains the prevalence of divorce. How much better, as our friend